


秘密 // Secret

by Selah



Series: Sadame [1]
Category: Jrock, Kagrra, Plastic Tree
Genre: BDSM, Lifestyle BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3575006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selah/pseuds/Selah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A silent shame, he couldn't even keep it to himself. Could it even be that one person could change all that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	秘密 // Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Another piece written for 10_encounters@lj.com, for the prompt nervous fiction. Timeline for this is somewhere between 2003 and 2005.

Ryuutarou rolled his shoulders, resettled his pose. The waiting was always the hardest part, that final tension before meeting the person who would own him next. Each meeting was worse, each change in ownership that much harder for all the ones that had come before and ended badly.

“Try to do it right this time, slut. I'm tired of seeing your stupid face.”

Silence. There was nothing he could say to that, nothing he wanted to say. Instead he kept his perfect pose, patiently waiting for his new Master's orders. Stilled even further at the first light touch of fingers in his hair.

“You have my word,” the voice of his new Master murmured, cool and yet soft, gentle, “that you will not be here like this again.”

Only strong training kept him from jerking his head up and gaping at his Master for making such a promise. Hadn't this man been told all his faults? How could he say such a thing so casually?

“You don't believe me? Hnn. Then we will have to teach you better, won't we?”

What was he to say to that? And yet silence seemed acceptable, in this instance at least, as he soon felt warm leather slipping about his throat. A click as a leash was clipped to the collar and then he was being silently urged to his feet. A bit humiliating, perhaps, to be led out into the night like this, but maybe if he just kept his head down like a good dog.... Thoughts skittered to a halt as he was brought to a car, sat in the front seat, right beside his new Master. A calculated risk, the way he glanced sidelong at the man who had taken him. Slender almost to the point of fey, blond that framed a cold face, though black roots were starting to show. At least this Dom appeared to be someone close to his own age, though whether that was a good thing or not, he wasn't entirely sure. 

By the time he was being lead into an apartment, the silence had gone from merely waiting to tense, worrisome. He had no idea what this man expected from him, what he would want him to do, to be. What _had_ this man been told about him anyway?

“I have work to finish. You may explore the apartment, but do not open closed doors. I will take tea in one hour,” his new Master said, each word measured and quiet. The leash was removed and that was all, his new Master walking away as if he wasn't leaving Ryuutarou in complete confusion. But at least he had most of an hour to move freely and try to learn something more about his new Master, his new life.

A perfectly reasonable plan derailed half an hour later by the ringing of his phone.

“Eh? Tadashi-kun, it's kind of late,” he murmured, not wanting to risk disturbing his new Master or perhaps being caught doing something not allowed.

_“I need you at the studio.”_

“Right now? At this time of night? Tadashi....”

_“Wait, let me guess, you can't come because of something personal,” his bandleader muttered. “You know we've got a deadline coming up, right?”_

“I'll come in early in the morning, okay? It's too late tonight, by the time I got there, I'd have half an hour and then I'd have to leave or miss the last train.”

_“Where the hell are you that you're that far out?”_

“With ... with a friend,” Ryuutarou hedged. He was all too aware of Tadashi's thoughts on his personal life, his disapproval of Ryuutarou's submissive nature. Chances were his leader already suspected him of being in the middle of something kinky, so he wasn't really sure why he was even bothering to try covering.

_“You and your selfishness. Fine, whatever. First thing in the morning.”_

“Having some difficulties, pet?”

Ryuutarou felt himself flinch so hard he was practically jumping out of his skin. Had he missed his deadline? But no, his new Master was early. Cell phone quickly pocketed, he dropped to his knees, head bowed in contrition. Hopefully if his Master _was_ upset with him, he would get his anger out quickly.

“Tarou....”

Ryuutarou's head jerked up a moment in surprise before resuming a more proper pose. Yes, of course his new Master would know his name, know what he was usually called.. Stupid of him to be surprised.

“Tarou, you will answer me when I speak to you or I will take that collar off and insist we do this as equals.”

“Yes, Master,” Ryuutarou murmured, shivering against the urge to collapse into complete supplication. “I'm sorry, Master. I will learn to be better for you.”

“The Tadashi who just called, was that Hasegawa Tadashi?”

“Y-yes,” he stumbled, daring to glance up at the other man through dark fringe. “Does Master know him?”

“I am in a band myself. Pura are our senpai. Can you accept a kouhai as your Dominant?”

This time his training was not enough to keep him from openly gaping at the man above him. Never before had he had to deal with someone who knew him professionally. But perhaps this would be a good thing? Always before his difficulties had come from Dominants who could not accept his schedule, his need to dedicate so much time, effort, and energy to his band. This time he would be serving someone who knew intimately what it meant to be a bandman, knew what requirements a band could put on him. Maybe this was exactly what he'd needed.

“I ... yes, I can accept you as my Master,” he replied, finally getting ahold of himself enough to bow his head once more. Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, fingers were combing through his hair, encouraging him to lean closer to his new Master.

“Do you need this as your lifestyle? Or will there be times when we can be closer to equals?”

“I....” Ryuutarou trailed into silence as he felt his Master's fingers still combing through his hair. Did he _need_ this or was it that he was simply _used_ to things being this way? “I don't know. I haven't tried,” he admitted after what felt like entirely too long. Yet there was no condemnation, no anger.

“Then perhaps we shall try. But tomorrow. If you are to be up early in the morning, you had best get to bed now.”

“Master?”

“Go on. And I expect to find you _in_ my bed, Tarou.”

“As you wish, Master,” he murmured, once more caught off guard.. He couldn't help thinking that his new master was being entirely too generous, but ... how could he refuse? A shower first, quickly but thoroughly washing every part of himself just in case. As he dried off, he considered what to do next. On the one hand, he knew where his new master kept several yukata. On the other hand, he did not yet have explicit permission to dress himself in his master's things. Perhaps this had been intentional? Too much thinking, he realized, shaking his head. It wasn't his place to think, not in this sort of situation anyway. Thinking was for work time, for when he was on his own. So long as he was here in his master's apartment, all he really needed to do was have faith in his new master's judgement.

Ryuutarou had time to experiment with several poses before coming to the conclusion that being in his master's bed meant being under the sheets, limiting his options just a bit. Burrowing under surprisingly soft linens, he tried a few more sprawls only to come to the even sadder conclusion that his master was not coming to bed himself any time soon. Huffing into the pillows, Ryuutarou burrowed even further into the blankets, drawing the duvet up over his head. Even though he told himself it wasn't because of him, it was hard to accept that this wasn't a rejection. Shouldn't a master be more eager to try out his newly acquired slave? Had he said something wrong? Surely he must have done something that his new master should have so little interest in him.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, only vaguely remembered snuggling closer when a warm body finally joined him. More memorable was the feel of a hand on bare skin, exploring, teasing, coaxing him towards wakefulness at what he suspected was an utterly uncivilized hour.

“I know you're awake, pet. Up now, you have a long day ahead of you.”

Ryuutarou huffed and tried to move closer to the warmth of his master, only to be firmly pushed back.

“Up, pet. Hasegawa-senpai is waiting for you. You can show your dedication to my happiness when you're done tonight.”

Right, right, of course. But all too quickly he ran up hard into the problem that he had nothing of his own in this place. Going home first would make it difficult for him to get to the studio at a time that could still be considered early, and yet what option did he have, truly?

“Go without boxers today, pet,” his master murmured, having caught on to his thoughts quite easily. “We'll stop at your apartment later. Until then, you may borrow this.”

Ryuutarou felt himself on the verge of tears at his master's generosity, barely able to stammer out a proper thanks for the offered shirt. Such a little thing, it was ridiculous that something so small was having such an effect on him. How sad, how utterly pathetic he had become, that something like this could make him cry.

“Time for that later, pet,” the blond murmured, lips just barely brushing against Ryuutarou's cheek. “You don't want him to be suspicious about you crying, ne?”

A sniffle, a weak nod, and then he was shuffling into the bathroom to wash his face. Of course his master was completely right; if Tadashi saw him with tear-stained cheeks, there would only be more questions and distrust. Anything he could do to stave off the inevitable questions even just a little longer....

~*~*~

“All right,” Tadashi declared as Ryuutarou settled his guitar in his lap, “who is he?”

“Huh?”

“It is a he, right? Or have you gone over to a dominatrix now?”

“Tadashi....”

“Whoever it is, he's already kept you from doing your job once. You know what this means.”

“This really isn't appropriate. You said you needed me to help you with work, well, I'm here, let's get to it, okay?”

“Tarou...,” Tadashi trailed off with a shake of his head and for a moment, Ryuutarou thought he might actually have put an end to it. He should have known better. “I just worry about you, you know that, ne? After what happened the last time ... you're one of my best friends, Tarou. I hate seeing you getting hurt by this all the time. And for what?”

“This time will be different,” he murmured, a soft sigh of resignation leaking from him.

“That's what you said last time. And the time before. And the time before that,” Tadashi countered, reaching out to clasp his hand. “You know how we feel.”

“This time really _will_ be different,” Ryuutarou insisted quietly, forcing himself to look Tadashi in the eyes without flinching. “You'll see.”

A soft huff from his friend and leader, but at least he was dropping the subject. For now. Ryuutarou knew it wouldn't last, but at least he could get a little peace.

Even though his Master had driven him to the studio and thus knew exactly where and when to find him, he still felt a twinge of surprise at the sight of his new Master in the lobby. Being in public and without his collar, Ryuutarou was unable to greet his Master in the way he would have preferred, making do with a demure smile. The blond was similarly circumspect, barely brushing fingertips against his hand in greeting.

“Ne, Tarou-kun,” Tadashi was suddenly saying, leaning heavily on the possessive arm around his shoulders, “aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?”

“Oh, um,” _crap_ , he silently swore. All three of his bandmates had caught them, each wearing matching expectant smiles. Well, he had to do _something_ , didn't he? “Tadashi, Akira, Bucchi , this is my, um, new friend, um....”

“Hashimoto Shin,” his Master interjected, bowing respectfully, as kouhai to senpai. “It's a pleasure to meet you, senpai.”

“Ah, a bandman is it? Which band then?” Bucchi asked and Ryuutarou could have kissed him for inserting himself into the conversation before either of the other two could say something unforgivably rude. Or in some way try to make his Master abandon him.

“Kagrra, on PS Company. If it wouldn't be too much to ask, could I borrow Arimura-senpai for the evening?”

“Oh you don't have to ask us permission for that,” Bucchi replied, again superseding the protests Ryuutarou could already see forming in Tadashi's and Akira's eyes. “We've finished for the day, he's free to do whatever he likes.”

“Within reason,” Tadashi asserted, leaning a little more on his shoulders. “We have an early meeting tomorrow, wouldn't do for you to turn up hung over or late.”

“I won't forget,” Ryuutarou replied, flashing a mischievous grin. Slipping out from under Tadashi's hold, he headed for the exit, plucking at the back of Shin's shirt as he passed him. Wouldn't do to be seen acting overly submissive in front of his bandmates, even if it was inevitable that they would learn that Shin was his new Master. Besides, it had been Shin's idea that he try to see himself as something other than a lifestyle submissive, a total slave, while they were together. He might be pushing his luck, but this was the only way to find out. And all right, a part of him wanted to see what happened when he went too far, when this so-quiet master was in a mood to punish him. Ropes and chains, whips and pain? Or would he be the denial type, locking him in a cage, exiling him to the kitchen floor at night?

“Have I lost your attention already, pet?”

Ryuutarou startled at the realization that he had, quite on autopilot, not only followed Shin to his car, but even gotten in, buckled up, and completely failed to notice the car's motions. A deep blush flared hotly on his cheeks and he bowed his head, mumbled an apology for his inattention.

“Oh I am quite confident you will ... make it up to me later,” his Master replied, smirking. “Now then, directions to your apartment, please, pet.”

Another blush, a few moments of stammering, and then he was giving his Master detailed directions to his apartment. By the time they got there, a whole new sort of nervousness had taken hold. Was he going to be expected to move into Shin's apartment? What if his new Master was allergic to cats? He had to keep his own separate place - the last time he had let a lease go while living with a master, Akira and Tadashi had both given him ten kinds of hell for being so reckless. And been even more critical when he had ended up homeless a few weeks later. Would Shin be understanding of that or would it have to be something he kept secret? He didn't want to rely on this, didn't want to risk investing himself completely in something that was unlikely to last.

“So nervous,” his Master murmured as they stood in the elevator, waiting for it to get to his floor. “Are you worried about a messy apartment? Or is there something else on your mind, Tarou-kun?”

“Too many things,” Ryuutarou confessed with a heavy sigh. “I ... I want you to be pleased with me,” he continued a beat later, the barest whisper he could manage. After all, he couldn't refuse to answer his Master's questions, but that didn't stop him from worrying that his confession would be poorly received.

“I already am, Tarou-kun,” his Master murmured, cupping his cheek. The elevator pinged at precisely the wrong moment, robbing him of whatever comfort his Master had been about to give him. He still needed a moment to gather himself, following Shin out of the elevator and then leading him to his door. How could his Master say such a thing? Shin had not even possessed him for a full day yet, had neither seen his abilities nor sampled his body. It was completely confusing, swirling together with nervousness to make him even more unsure of himself.

The door closed behind them and then he felt his Master's hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. He went easily, eager to be allowed to prove himself worthy. A shiver and a heavy sigh of relief at the feel of warm leather wrapping around his neck once more. 

“You worry too much, pet,” his Master soothed, fingers carding through his hair. “Even if we should prove a poor match, I will not cast you off as those who have come before me have done. Such is not my way, not _our_ way. You shall see.”

The way his Master spoke ... did that mean there was another? He had assumed - apparently in error - that his Master had no one else, that he would be the only. But now he could not explain to himself why. After all, he was only a slave, why shouldn't his Master have others? Other slaves, perhaps even someone who could be his equal. He had made silly assumptions based on too little evidence, clearly.

“Hmm, a few more days yet to get this useless self-hate out of your system, and then perhaps I will take you to meet them. You are not yet ready,” his Master declared, and a piece of his heart sank even lower. Them. More than one. He really had gotten his hopes up for nothing.

Fingers clenched tightly in his hair and tugged harshly, wrenching his head back until he had no choice but to look at his Master's displeased face.

“What did I just get finished saying, Tarou?” his Master grumbled, face hard with displeasure. “I will not have a pet who selfishly thinks he can choose when to listen to me and when to ignore my words.

“I ... I'm sorry, Master, I ... I'll....”

“Be silent,” Shin growled and somehow, even though there were no epithets being hurled his way, he felt all the worse for their absence. As if he wasn't even good enough to be called a whore.

The hand that wasn't still in his hair curled into and around the front of his collar and he swallowed thickly at the way it constricted his breathing.

“I did not take you to pamper your self-indulgent flaws, Tarou. Neither did I take a slave wanting him to think for himself and second guess my every word. Now, you will listen very closely and do as you are told. 

“Pack enough bags such that you will feel comfortable in my home for two weeks. Clothes, guitar, books, personal items. You will not be back here for two weeks, so pack accordingly. The cat will come as well. When we get home, you will put your bags where I tell you, let your cat out of its carrier, and then make dinner. You will unpack only once you have finished cooking and you will be done by the time I am finished eating. If I am satisfied, you will be allowed food. Otherwise, you will make corrections and do the dishes. Then you will scrub the bathroom from floor to ceiling, until the job is done or ten-thirty, whichever comes first. At a quarter to eleven, you will deliver tea to my work room. If you have done well, I will invite you to stay. If you have failed me in any way in any of these things, you will leave the room, shower, take the futon in the front closet, and sleep in the lounge. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Master,” he whispered, not daring to do more than that. Well, he had wanted to know what his Master was like when he was angry. It appeared he had his answer.


End file.
